ble for you as could be. Besides which, Ralli 'd just
take 'em all away from you again as soon as my back was turned, and then
you'd be worse off 'n ever. No, that won't do, we'll have to go some
other way about it; but you leave it to me, general; you may bet your
pile I'll find out a way to do it before I sail. Now, which of these
boxes of music will you have?"

They had arrived by this time at the capstan-house, and were standing
near the pianofortes, all of which had been placed together on the floor
of the sail-loft, the packing-cases having been ripped off and probably
used for firewood. Lance ran his fingers over the key-board of each
instrument in turn, striking a few chords and harmonies to test the
quality of the tone and touch, and finally selected a superb "grand" by
Broadwood.

"All right, general, I'll have the durned thing taken down to your
quarters to oncet. But do you mean to say that you know how to thump
music out of them things as well as how to build batteries and ships and
so forth?" ejaculated Johnson.

"Well, yes," said Lance, laughingly, "I believe I must plead guilty to
being somewhat of a musician, though I have not touched an instrument
for many a day until now."

"Then sit right down there, colonel, and play me something good," said
Johnson, rolling a nail-keg as a seat up to one of the instruments.

Lance, thoroughly amused at the comical incongruity of the situation,
sat down and rattled off "Yankee Doodle," an air which he judged would
be likely to find appreciation with his queer companion.

Johnson stood for a moment spell-bound as the well remembered strains
fell upon his ear, then a broad grin of delight overspread his features,
and finally he began to caper about the sail-loft in the most
extraordinary manner, and to utter certain unearthly sounds which Lance
fancied was Johnson's idea of singing.

"Something else! gimme some more," the pirate captain exclaimed
rapturously, when his entertainer at length raised his fingers from the
key-board. Whereupon Lance began to play and sing "Hail, Columbia."
Johnson stood still and silent as a statue now, the stirring strains
touched an altogether different chord of his memory, and for an instant
something suspiciously like a tear glistened in his eye.

"Thank you," he said very quietly, when Lance had finished, "that will
do now; I would rather not hear any more at present. Let me keep the
sound of that song in my mind as lon